


Non-Disclosure

by kleine_aster



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Millerverse)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Edgeplay, F/M, Humiliation, Identity Porn, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5835910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_aster/pseuds/kleine_aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night between the sheets with Batman and Robin – what self-respecting reporter would say no to that? Answer: all of them, but that’s not gonna stop Vicki Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> This was sitting in my drafts forever (it’s actually older than In Dreams), and it never really turned out the way I wanted. But I was in an ASBAR mood lately, so I finally finished it. Have a weird threeway!

There’s always been chatter around Vicki’s office regarding Batman’s cock.

She figures that it’s not surprising, really. Batman, he’s a hot commodity in the Gotham newsrooms – and as with all hot commodities, at some point, the conversation runs into the gutter.

Vicki’s heard all kinds of things. Some say he doesn’t even _have_ a dick, because he’s not a man, he’s a shadowy being, molded directly from the grit and grime of Crime Alley. Some insist that he’s a monster – ten feet tall and covered in fur, like that poor Grayson kid had said before he’d vanished off the face of the planet (presumably eaten by Batman) – so he must be built like one, too, down there. That theory always draws a lot of attention from the ladies and, honestly, from the gents too.

Personally, Vicki Vale has always scoffed at all of that.

“Listen”, she’d say. “I know he cuts a nice, scary figure in those rags, but he’s _clearly_  a madman in a unitard. A _man_. He’s got nothing we haven’t seen before.”

And now, as they’re naked on a bed (by the by, it hadn’t been a _unitard_ ), and she feels him pressed up firmly against her ass cheeks, she finds to her satisfaction that she’s been, once more, proven right. He’s got a nice, rigid, _human_ cock down there, right where it should be, though you could probably call it “a monster” if you really wanted to. The thought makes her smile with pink-painted lips.

“Something funny, V?” He gravels right next to her ear in his rough, never-kind voice. “Everything to your liking?”

Instead of waiting for her reply, he rubs a hand down between her legs, draws a warm, calloused finger across the wet, plump outline of her pussy, nudging the tip of her smooth, swollen clit only ever so slightly. It sends a pinch of honey-coated lust through her system and she gasps, parting her legs while he parts her red hair to kiss the back of her neck. Yeah, he may come across like a thug-pummeling brute, and he may _act_ like he doesn’t know how to act, but there’s something beneath that; he clearly knows what he’s doing, and it touches on some of the suspicions she has, and that makes her even more excited.

“You be the judge of that, honey,” she purrs, and hears him groan when she squeezes her buttocks against him (human, all right). She reaches back to put an arm around his thick neck. “Aren’t you a master detective?”

He huffs, but then he makes her gasp again when he bends her right over, and she starts panting in anticipation of his cock entering her. But that’s not what happens; because his next words are not directed at her.

“Go ahead, junior.” His voice grows lower and wickeder than before, making it sound almost like a dare. “Touch ‘em. I know you want to.”

Vicki knows that he’s referring to both her heavy, dangling breasts, and the teenager who’s splayed out beneath her with his face all red and his stiff prick throbbing eagerly against her inner thigh. The sight and feel of it almost makes up for Batman throwing around terrifying monikers.

She turns her attention to Robin and sees him succeed at looking her in the face, even though it obviously takes him some effort.

He sounds breathless. But he’s got manners. “Can I really, Miss Vale?”

His voice has a nervous squeak to it, but it’s still deeper than she remembers it from that night at the circus. Of course it is; it’s been a few years. How old had he been, again?

“Y’know,” she playfully tilts her head at him. “I think we’re at a point where it’s okay for you to call me ‘Vicki’, Dick.”

The nervous, semi-excited smile drops off his face. He begins to stammer. “I-I’m not - ”

“He’s not -” Batman protests hoarsely, at the same time.

“Oh, come on, boys.” She turns her head to waggle her eyebrows at the man behind her. “Do you _really_ wanna get into that now, Dark Knight Detective?”

“No.”

Batman’s answer sounds morose. But then he gets his head back in the game, making her moan and wriggle again when he strokes her thighs with strong, expert hands.

She’s the only one in bed who’s not wearing a mask, and it’s a little kooky; and the boy’s a little young for her tastes, too. But she wouldn’t be the Gotham Gazette’s top investigator if she were squeamish about dirtying her … _hands_ , so there’s that.

She peeks down at the apprentice again, when he pipes up.

“V- … Miss … um. D'you mind, not calling me that name ‘n all?“ He lets out a shy, fluttery little laugh before he almost timidly starts cupping her breasts with his hands. “I might keep calling you ‘Miss Vale’, though, if that’s okay.” His voice turns breezy, distracted by what his hands are doing. “I think I sorta like it.”

"I’ll allow it.”

She grins at him. Well, she can appreciate it when people bring fresh ideas to the table.

Her smile falters when he digs his inexperienced fingers into the soft flesh of her breasts as if they’re dough. Vicki frowns, tensing. Totally Not Dick Grayson may be a hotshot up-and-coming vigilante, but he does what every horny teenager does when presented with a set of boobs: clumsily smushing and squeezing them, like they’re produce, completely captivated by their properties and texture. She’s about to click her tongue and tell him he’s doing it wrong, when he suddenly shoots up and starts fondling and kissing them, which is much better, _much_ better. She coos in agreement, throws her head back, runs her fingers through his sweaty, curly dark hair as she directs his attention to one of her erect, rosy nipples. He gives her a few curious flicks of his tongue, like he’s testing something, then he puts his warm mouth on her, and sucks. It makes her weak in the knees; she feels herself sagging on top of him, which causes her wet, open slit to collide with the tender tip of his cock. The contact is warm and welcome, making her groan while her juices melt into his. Boy Wonder flinches as if he’s burned himself on something hot and delicious, then looks up at her, lips reddened, face flushed and hopeful.

“…Yes?” He breathes, eager for her approval, eager to hear he’s doing something right. And when she nods and sighs, “Nhn. _Yes_ ,” he beams, and buries his face in her chest again.

Vicki stirs when she realizes that, despite of how hard his cock is, it’s less sleazy than it is _needy_. It’s not strictly about his mouth and her tits, or even about his erection prodding her nether regions; there’s a real _need_ there, a need for something warm and soft. A desire to be held by a woman, an _older_ woman. He releases an uncontrolled, hoarse moan, and her skin crawls with gooseflesh when she remembers that he saw his mother die, and now he’s hugging _her_ , but he’s also licking her nipples at the same time, and it gets all mixed-up and awkward for a second. But it makes sense, she figures. When you spend your nights (and probably your days) in the presence of a maniac with a hard-on for justice who wears an armored bat costume, softness and warmth are probably in short supply. She has no way of knowing, but she presumes that Batman doesn’t turn into a basket of kittens once the cowl comes off.

Speaking of which; the hooded stranger behind her hasn’t made a move in a while, nothing to remind her of his presence if it wasn’t for his sizeable rod still pressing itself hard against the small of her back. But now he’s closing in again, massaging her spine, nibbling her shoulder, producing a low growl that sounds like what Vicki imagines a happy wolf sounds like. She shivers, digging her fingers deeper into Not Dick Grayson’s skinny shoulders so she doesn’t fall over. Batman’s got good lips. Good breath. Good _teeth_. Wherever he’s from, Crime Alley it’s not; she’s almost sure of that.

The Caped Crusader pays no attention to his teenaged partner while he’s toying with her, but Boy Wonder is a different story. Robin’s eyes roll upward behind his mask while his lips are busy sucking on her, and she realizes that he’s closely watching what his mentor is doing. Perhaps it’s an eagerness to learn, perhaps it’s something else; in any case, it’s simultaneously weird and titillating. He never neglects her, however, treats her to his tongue and lips until the tips of her fingers are tingling and her toes are curling, and the need to sit on his cock starts to basically ooze out of her. And when he lets go of her breasts to softly, sweetly kiss her neck, she shudders and realizes that he not only has a real need for tenderness, he also has a talent for it, a potential that’s probably wasted in whatever he’s doing now. It makes her want to rub herself on him even more.

Biting her lip, she lowers herself down on him, slowly, gently, allowing him the slightest bit of entrance, just the tip. Robin squirms underneath her before he suddenly starts looking desperate, his hands turning into fists and his mouth opening to let out a gasp  –

“Not yet.”

Vicki turns around to glare at the vigilante who’s spoken up. “ _Excuse_ me?”  

“Not yet,” Batman repeats, almost casually. “I want him to learn.”

She hears a little whimper coming from underneath her. Vicki furrows her brow. She’s annoyed, but almost despite herself, she’s also impressed at how cold Batman is while he’s sharing a bed with a foxy redhead (if she does say so herself) and a cute horny youth. She wonders if he even needs to get off, or if watching _them_ get off is all he needs. Scratch that; he doesn’t seem too concerned with his boy assistant getting off, either.

“Vicki,” he says next, and she _hates_ what he can do with his smooth, deep voice, making her name sound so tasty. “Vicki. Lie down on your back, please.”

He turns to the boy next, for the first time since he’s prompted him to touch her. “Do what I told you,” he drawls. Robin doesn’t get a 'please’.

The boy sits up and shoots his mentor a dirty glare, his sweet excitement replaced by petulance. “I _was_ gonna do it, y'know,” he complains brattily, but he looks flustered.

“Good.” There’s a note of deadpan sarcasm in Batman’s voice, and Vicki begins to suspect that this is how they always communicate, “Then _get to it_.”

"I don’t like your tone,” Vicki scolds the Dark Knight ('cause someone has to), but curiosity gets the better of her, and she dismounts the boy and rolls over on her back, anyway. When Robin crawls between her open legs, still pouting, she knows exactly what Batman has told him to do.

Boy, that must’ve been one awkward briefing in their hideout, wherever that was.

He looks disgruntled, but his movements are gentle when he nudges her thighs apart. His frown disappears when he starts eyeing what’s between her legs with interest. It’s obvious that it was Batman’s attitude that pissed him off, not the task itself. It dawns on Vicki now that she’s being used as some sort of teaching object, and she’s not sure she likes it. But the boy’s perky expression as he examines her anatomy keeps her interested, for now.

He gets on all fours, and then, adorably, bends down and kisses her pussy before drawing his curious tongue across it. Vicki squirms, biting her lip. The reality of Totally Not Dick Grayson licking her there is so weird that her clit grows shy and retreats for a moment. But the kid’s either gotten some useful tips from _someone_ , or he’s got a natural taste for it, in any case, he goes straight to work on drawing it out again with diligent flicks of his tongue. She can feel the muscles in her thighs contract under his grip. Before she knows it, she’s tightening, loosening, quivering. A small whine forms on her lips, and can’t be suppressed. There’s a wet, eager “Mmmh,” in response from the boy working between her legs. In the background, the Bat has fallen so quiet you’d think he’d turned to stone.

“ _Dontstop_ ,” she crows, teeth clenching. He’s gotten her hard again, his tongue lapping at her is tickling, itching, _edging_ , and the build-up is glorious, but he’s not skilled enough to really tide her over, and it’s driving her eyes into the back of her head, driving her nuts. Not Dick Grayson whimpers when she tears at his hair in her frustration. There’s no new orders coming in from Batman, so Vicki takes over, tries to guide him through it. Faster. Slower. There. _There_. The boy is a ferocious student, and she would usually appreciate someone eating her out for so long; but he’s both too eager and too clumsy, locking her in a torturous state of almost-coming that has her vibrating on the bed. More than once, he comes close, _so_ close to giving her a wet, screaming orgasm, and the sharp plunge in arousal makes her wail every time. Soon, her voice starts edging desperation, and she hates that Batman gets to see and hear all this. Throughout it, she can tell that the kid’s still taking his task seriously; he follows her moaned orders without question; if he’s getting exhausted or impatient, he doesn’t complain.

She’s almost wondering about his stamina (as far as she’s still forming thoughts), which seems unusual in someone his age, when she feels a sharp intake of breath against her hot, swollen flesh. He goes from shaking to convulsing, and then his face flies out of her wet pussy, distorted by lust and strain.

“I c-cant - ”, he pants, “I – ’m gonna -”

She wonders why he’s so alarmed about shooting his load (seems like the point of this whole exercise, doesn’t it), when his mentor’s voice cuts through his mewling like a cracking whip.

“You’re not _done_.”

And then, he sounds vaguely personable for the first time when he calmly and soothingly repeats, “Do what I told you.”

The boy writhes, but then Vicki watches him reach down and give himself a squeeze and a tug, which somehow staves off the inevitable. He doubles over, looking as if he’s about to cry. But then, his breathing goes back to normal, and he’s still hard, and the first thing he does is cast a hateful look at his boss and _wait_ , he’d _taught_ him that? What type of conversations do these two have, anyway?

“What’d I say; you get nothing before _she_ gets something,” Batman scolds him, back to his usual sunny self.

Vicki shoots him a dirty look, still flat on her back, sweat shimmering between her breasts. If she’d known he’d be that way, she would’ve gotten both the kid and herself off with a few flicks of her wrist. “You sadist creep,” she pants.

His dark, almost gentle laugh sends a shiver down her spine. “He’s used to it.”

That makes her feel even worse for the beginner in the bed. She gives Robin a gentle nudge with her foot, which prompts him to look at her with dazed eyes. His cheeks are bright red, and the mix of arousal and frustration on his face is almost funny.

“You didn’t, um…?” He asks her hoarsely, “W-when you were, uh, squealing, wasn’t that…?”

She hears a low chuckle coming from the sidelines. “She was squealing a lot,” Batman observes. “What, you thought you’re so good you made her come twenty times?”

Robin looks embarrassed. Vicki rolls her eyes. What an arrogant prick. _Of course_ the boy wouldn’t know what it looks like.

She sighs, voice sore from the exertion, and reaches down to scratch Not Dick Grayson behind the ear, “It’s all right, honey. It’s hard to get right the first time. You felt great.”

He grimaces, her juices still smeared all over his young face. But then he timidly smiles at her with raw, swollen lips. “You smell good, Miss Vale,” he says.

“How’s she taste?”

They both look over at Batman. There seems to be even more gravel in his voice now, but he still hasn’t moved, doesn’t even touch himself despite the state of his dick. His massive erection looks downright intimidating, and the kid isn’t the only one who’s oozing precome. Yet the Bat’s demeanor is as cold as when they’d started.

“You can’t compliment a lady’s scent, then not comment on her taste,” he lectures Not Dick Grayson, and nothing on his stony face gives away what a kick he’s getting out of it. “Not while you’re doing what you’re doing. Go on. Tell her.”

“Um…”

The teen’s face falls a little, and he becomes even more flushed, which seems technically impossible. “It’s, uh, it’s okay,” he says meekly, shooting her an anxious look.

That’s when Batman touches him for the first time, when he gives him a swat on the ass. “ _Rude_.”

Robin snarls at him, and for a moment, it almost seems as if the duo is going to get into a fight over her naked body. Vicki raises her eyebrows. The break in the action has made her cool off a little, allowing her to think more clearly. There’s a _weird_ vibe going on with them. Earlier, when she’d gone into the hotel bathroom to get ready, she’d heard them bicker on the bed, and she almost thinks she heard some ruffling of clothes, some touching of mouths. But she’s not sure. She’s tempted to ask the Dynamic Duo to give her a show, just to see what would happen. But considering Batman’s temper, that could go South right quick.

Anyway, she’s had it with his attitude.

“Come here,” she hisses, crawls over and grabs Batman, before the two masked fellas can break out in fisticuffs. She throws her arm around him and puts her lips on his cruel, nasty mouth, slipping him her tongue to keep him occupied. But she only does it so that she can grab his balls with her other hand, and dig her sharp nails in.

He doesn’t react in the way she expected. His body heavily rocks against hers, and the rugged moan he gives her indicates he isn’t averse to some pain in that area.

He smirks when he sees her baffled expression, but she’s not gonna get distracted this time.

“Listen to me,” she whispers against his hot mouth, and she can feel his cock twitch at that, “You hit that boy one more time in front of me, and I will not only end this, I will tell _everyone_ about it, and baby, I don’t even care if my reputation takes a hit … again. Understood?”

She hears a stifled groan in the background. Either Not Dick Grayson has a fetish for people abusing Batman’s junk, or he just really, really likes it when someone sticks up for him. Or both.

Vicki glares when she sees Batman’s twisted smirk deepen. She’s tempted to press her nails in deeper, but she has a feeling that he’d just be into it. “You think I’m kidding, you freak?”

“No.” His rough lips lazily trail hers while he talks, “I’m just pleased with myself for choosing you, Vicki.”

He leans into her as if he’s going to kiss her again, but instead, he takes her by the neck and strokes it while he whispers to her, viciously, poisonously. “What, _now_ it’s getting a little too _weird_ for you? _Now_ you think this is crazy? No. You knew what it’d be, you knew from the start and yet you went in anyway, you wanted it so bad you even signed those papers I gave you, and you are _not_ the type to turn back now.” And now he’s daring _her_.

She squirms in his grip, trying, and failing, to pretend that his menace _doesn’t_ turn her on, while her juices are uncontrollably flowing out of her. They glare at each other, panting like a pair of mad dogs, and now that she’s got him up close, she realizes that he’s not any less horny than she or Robin are. His hardened body is burning against hers, smelling like leather and testosterone. Despite his superior grin, she can tell how hard-up he is for an outlet, how badly he wants to bend someone over and fuck them.

She’s wondering _whom_ , though.

With a husky laugh, she lets go of his balls to lightly draw her fingers across the length of his thick, long cock, and the muscles in his loins clench up so tightly it looks painful. Something rumbles in his throat. He can pretend all he likes, but he’s _sweating_ desire, it’s impossible to miss. Robin would know it, too, if his mentor didn’t keep him so distracted by ways of torture. She licks a bead of sweat off his stubbly chin and shoots him a grim, mocking smile before she turns away.

“Might as well have fun then, right,” she says, and grabs young Robin again.

He lets out a confused “Yeah…?” when she pushes him down on his back, simultaneously thrilled and terrified to be given attention again. His bright blue eyes almost pop out of his head while he watches her tall, curvy form come over him. It’s been a while since he’s eaten her out so nicely, but she’s still ready to receive him.

He gazes in his mentor’s direction, then back at her.

“’m not supposed to,” he mumbles, as if he’s telling her he’s not supposed to have a cookie before dinner. He’s completely still between her thighs, anxious that the next touch is going to set him off.

She tosses back her long hair for additional flourish, and opens her legs for him. “Question is, do you _want_ to?”

This time, he doesn’t peek at Batman for permission. He looks as if he’s going to burst into tears for a couple moments, then he nods very emphatically.

“Good.” she gives him a gentle pat on his smooth, heaving chest, then puts his sweaty hands on her hips. “Then let me make you a man.”

 _Make him a man_. It’s stupid macho bullshit, but she calculates it’s exactly the type of stupid macho bullshit that’ll hit Batman right in his aching nuts, and she’s all about that now. That, and throwing this poor kid a fucking bone already.

“If _he_ doesn’t like it,” she whispers, breath hitching when her flesh teases his again, “He can take it up with me.”

Batman makes no attempt to stop her. She figured he wouldn’t, since on some level, despite all those bullshit _rules_ he may have made, he wants to _watch_.

But as soon as the boy is about to enter her, Vicki hears the man hiss at him, “ _Careful now_.”

His tone is sardonic, but now that she’s more aware, she can hear the barely disguised _want_ in it. “Don’t blow it, kiddo. Control yourself. You’re too young to become a _father_ , wouldn’t you say.”

She stops and shudders at what a pig he is. Then she sees Not Dick Grayson’s hurt and frightened expression, and realizes that it’s just another little cruelty tailor-made for him. Which … doesn’t make it any less gross. Vicki reaches down and feels around for him, catching him on the verge of getting soft. She leans down to nip at the boy’s lips. “Don’t listen to him,” she mutters, nudging his face for encouragement. “I’m on the pill. Just 'cause _he_ doesn’t know to have fun, doesn’t mean that _we_ can’t.”

Not Dick Grayson looks unsure at first, but then his eyes light up and a sudden, mad, rascally smile flits across his face. It’s hard to tell what excites him more, the prospect of fucking her, or the idea of doing what he’s not supposed to. Either way, it works. He inhales, and she can feel him grow to full hardness between her thighs again. His grip around her hips grows firm when she pushes herself down on him.

Her mouth falls open with a drawn-out groan. He fills her out nicely, spreading her open in a way that extends the sensation right to her stiff, pulsing clit. She closes her eyes, whining softly. She wants to get herself off, _now_ , but she waits patiently until she feels his body settle down underneath her.

She coos with satisfaction when the next thing she hears isn’t a taunt from Batman, but Robin whispering, “That’s … good…”

And for a change, Batman doesn’t have a smartass retort to that.

Vicki does. “Don’t sound so surprised,” she chirps, before she starts sliding up and down his length.

It’s like doing it with a surfboard, at first. His cock is good for it, but he lies motionless, staring at her with large, startled eyes. He flinches whenever she slams down on him, uttering the tiniest of whimpers every time. The level of control is commendable, but right now, it’s kinda killing her buzz.

“This ain’t a stealth mission,” she pants.

“Nhn,” he retorts, sounding pained.

“Come on, I _know_ you can move, I’ve seen you on TV,” Vicki groans, growing impatient, and somewhere Batman’s laughing.

“Relax…”

Her shaky voice turns softer, and she extends one hand to cradle his face, stroking herself with the other to reach her peak quicker, because now she really craves it. “I-it’s fine, we can- _aah_!”

It’s that laugh. It’s Batman’s _damn_ laugh that injects life into the boy’s quivering hips, causes him to thrust up and into her, making her cry out when she receives his entire length. She squirms, clenching down on him until he mewls again, but it feels so _good_ , and when she looks down at him, he looks really angry, but not at her.

“G-good,” she hisses at him, like a satisfied teacher; or one who’s about to be satisified, at the least.

“Yeah,” he hisses back at her, his face clenched and fierce with defiance.

He puts his hands on her tits again, more confidently this time, and Vicki welcomes the touch with another moan as she starts working her own hand between her legs again. Her other hand she presses soothingly onto his stomach, forcing him to give it to her in a firm, steady rhythm until he’s doing it, really _doing_ it for her, and she lets him know, rocking and gasping and moaning, and then, and then -

They wail in unison when two large, firm hands grab her abruptly from behind, bringing their rutting to a sharp halt. Robin howls as if he’s getting his arm twisted, and Vicki hisses like a wounded cat, stopped dead on her climb to the top. It seems as if their game master has finally decided he wants to play. What a wretched _buzzkill_ he is.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she warns him, struggling to keep the pre-orgasmic shivers out of her voice, when she feels his big, hard piece pressed up against her ass again. “You don’t really think I’d let you stick it in _there_ now, do you really, you bastard? You can’t be _that_ stupid. I’ve partied with Gotham politicians, but a girl’s got her limits.”

She reaches back to pinch him, hard, and hears him respond with that pleased growl she’s become familiar with. His hot, oddly nice-smelling breath is grazing her neck.

He presses another kiss on her. “Don’t worry,” he assures her, in a tone that makes her believe it. The rough tips of his fingers are teasing her sensitive nipples, which means he and the boy are not _touching hands_ over her tits, but then Not Dick Grayson’s nimble fingers relent to let his master…his mentor squeeze and pinch her. Vicki’s eyelids flutter and she lets out a sigh while he caresses her down with his good hands. She doesn’t really want to like it, after hearing the disgusting garbage that came out of his _mouth_ , but _those hands_.

Not Dick Grayson watches them as if he’s mesmerized. He looks completely strung out by this point, his eyes glazed and empty, his lips open and dry, as if he’s gonna pass out if they don’t finish him off soon. When he sees the older man lean in, he starts shivering so violently he might as well be vibrating. But he’s as hard as ever inside her.

Perhaps harder.

“I said _no_ ,” she repeats when calloused thumbs dig into her smooth flesh to part her buttocks, but then she feels him insert himself between them, and his contented hum indicates that that’s enough for him, that this is all he’s wanted to do.

“I _told you_ don’t worry,” he mutters, a hint of almost adolescent offense in his tone even, while his neglected cock pulses against her hot, sensitive skin. He’s trembling, though his voice does not. “What d'you take me for …?”

Down at the bottom of their little pile, Not Dick Grayson gasps when Batman gives Vicki a slow, measured thrust, forcing her to gyrate on his cock again. It’s clear that he’s gonna set the pace from now on. She stirs and grows as tense as a whip at that, and both men moan in response. She feels the boy kick his heels into the mattress in a desperate attempt to stave off his orgasm one more time.

Batman’s hands are on her tits, and then Robin’s hands are on her tits, and now they are touching again and it’s fucking weird, but whatever, it’s not as if this can _get_ any weirder, anyway.

The older man grinds against her again, slowly, then again, and again, and she can feel that he truly wants to do more, that he really wants to rail her, but he’s holding back, maybe because he can’t lose face in front of his junior partner. The thought makes her smile grimly. She wonders what’s really going on with him, if he imagines having _Robin_ bent over in front of him like she is now, or if he imagines being _her_ and having his hard teenaged cock inside of him.

He’s probably not been waiting for her answer to his question, but she gives it anyway.

“A criminal,” she whispers, grinning to herself.

“What?”

“Is what I take you for –”

His next thrust comes a little harder than the ones before. Somehow getting called that gets him hella excited. “Come again,” he mutters slyly, one hand bunched up in her luscious red hair.

“You’re. A. _Criminal_ ,” the reporter moans, letting the word roll off her tongue, “ _That’s_ what you are, a wretched – nhn – low-life – _criminal_ -”

And somehow, that does it for her. Her body shudders, and then she hears Not Dick Grayson cry out underneath her when her muscles snap shut around him and she climaxes, deep and hard. He bucks up against her, and then he’s there too, and he almost sounds like he’s sobbing while he spills his seed into her.

She’s in no condition to say for sure, but it’s as if Batman briefly squeezes his acolyte’s hands while he watches them come.

“Good boy,” she whispers to Robin, still shuddering, while he goes limp underneath her. A strange kind of sympathy comes over her while she sees all the fraught tension finally leave his smooth face and body, sees his eyes flutter in exhaustion. And then, “Good boy, Dick,” because it’s not as if anyone is keeping up appearances anymore, and she figures she can get away with it.

Batman doesn’t try to fight her on it again, perhaps because he doesn’t pay attention. She can hear him draw loaded, ragged breaths behind her. Not only his cock, but his entire body seems painfully rigid, blood pounding through it, and even though she can’t see it, she is willing to bet that his face looks _crazy_ right now.

“All right, fine,” she mumbles.

The boy has left her hot, dripping and open, so she lifts up her rear and offers herself to the man, too. He doesn’t deserve it, but maybe having a damn orgasm will make him tolerable for 5 minutes.

She hears a sharp intake of breath and knows he hasn’t expected her to let him fuck her, probably hasn’t even expected to get as involved as he did.

“Go ahead, _do it,_ you prick,” she snaps at him, since that’s seems to be a language he understands, “Do your worst, that’s what you’re here for, anyway.”

He hesitates for a moment. When his fingers eventually touch her, they’re shaking, slipping on her sweat-soaked skin, his earlier sophistication nowhere to be found. Something about sticking his cock where Robin had been before seems to make him deeply nervous. She rolls her eyes. Weirdos, the both of them.

He rasps, “Vicki – I –”

Her head shoots up from the mattress she’s been drooling on. “Don’t wanna hear it,” she snarls, grinning wildly to herself. “Do it. I want it. I never fucked a _crook_ before -”

He’s so huge, and she’s so worked up, that another orgasm explodes in her loins right when he slams into her.

She shrieks, and then Robin shrieks when she digs her long nails into his chest. Behind her, Batman’s moan sounds so torn and grateful it nearly turns him into a human being for a second. He sounds familiar almost, now that all the harshness is melting out of his voice, like someone she knows, but she can’t put her finger on  –

Anyway, his dick is way more appealing than his foul mouth.

He plows her deep and good, as if to make up for all the nastiness that preceded it. He fucks her _right_ on top of the boy, and that can’t be a coincidence, like the hand-touching hasn’t been a coincidence, and whenever she’s not busy howling in orgasm, she watches Not Dick Grayson bite his lip bloody while he squirms beneath them, unable to tear his gaze away. Streaks of dried-up tears are gleaming on his face. His eyes burn so brightly he almost looks mad.

When Batman’s body is finally taken by orgasm too, he’s so desperate not to embarrass himself that his throaty roaring winds up sounding almost _wounded_ , and it’d be hilarious if she wasn’t so busy blanking out and collapsing on top of Robin.

To her surprise, he brings up his shaky arms, and embraces her. The boy, not the man.

She lets her head sink into the crook of his neck, and closes her eyes for a few blissful minutes. She barely notes how the man behind her gets up and leaves the bed. He doesn’t say another word, which, _also_ a blessing.

She’s not sure how long they lie there. All the blinds in their little hotel room are down, it could be night, dawn, morning, anything. The next thing she really actually notices is Not Dick Grayson sucking in his breath when her sweaty fingers touch the claw marks on his skin.

Vicki looks at them. Her face grows hot. “Oh, _baby_. Sorry about that.”

“Are you kiddin’,” the rascally smile returns while he looks at his scratched-up chest with pride, an eager flush in his cheeks. “That was _cool_.”

Vicki gazes up at him. “Are you okay,” she wonders, because she has a true desire to know. She’s not sure what she even means. A lot of things, most likely.

He doesn’t answer her question. But he turns to her, weary but happy, all the tension and hardship seemingly washed away. At least for now.

“Mind if I kiss you again, Miss Vale?” He asks, hushed and fast, as if he’s worried someone will forbid it the next second.

She lifts her head, and presses her lips on his.

They kiss, and he sighs hotly, squirming against her, wanting more. He’s clinging to her as if he never wants her to leave. Which makes sense, she figures, as that would leave him alone with the Bat. She doesn’t even wonder what the hell the big man is doing until a few moments later, when he comes out of the bathroom and tosses two towels at them as if they’d just finished a successful workout. For someone who’s just held out as long and come as hard as he did, he’s pretty steady on his feet. If he dislikes seeing them make out again, he doesn’t say it.

She takes the towel. All in all, that’s not the _shittiest_ thing he’s done today.

He’s back in his tights already, though his heavy, scar-covered chest is still bare. He sits down in the chair next to the bed and watches them clean up. It’s a creeper move, but compared to his behavior in the sheets, it’s downright _serene._ His gaze falls on his apprentice, and a crooked smile comes to his lips.

“You’re never gonna wash that off, are you,” he grumbles.

Vicki looks over and catches Not Dick staring down at himself, and for the first time they both notice that his face and body are covered in her hot pink lipstick. His blush deepens, but he sounds plucky when he determines, “Nah, not yet,” dabbing his skin carefully so it won’t wipe off. He seems to be in a mood so chipper that even Batman can’t kill it. Vicki grins, and you’d almost think the Dark Knight is grinning, too. But he stops as soon as he feels her eyes on him.

“You regret it,” he asks in that gruff voice that she now _knows_ is not his real voice, “Singning the agreement?”

'cause that’s what he’d made her do, sign a non-disclosure agreement about tonight, a legally binding one. Because he’s a massive creep, but he’s not stupid. And signing it probably made Vicki a creep, too. Eh, screw it. Probably wasn’t even the weirdest legal document floating around Gotham.

She gives him a sly smile in response, says nothing. It’s been worth it, oh, it’s all been worth it, every second. She hasn’t gotten laid like this in months, if ever, but there is no need to blow even more smoke up Batman’s clenched ass. And besides, that’s only a small fraction of what makes her smile in satisfaction. It doesn’t matter that she can’t publish this little escapade, which would’ve been professional self-destruction anyway. She’d never planned to. She got what she wanted; a deep, dark look into the horror show that was Batman’s psyche, which brought her one step closer to figuring out who he was behind that mask. And _that_ headline? Would earn her only acclaim one day.

The rest of what happened…would remain buried in her heart forever.

Vicki really wants a smoke, but unfortunately, she quit, so she grabs the mint that used to be on the pillow, unwraps it, and sucks down on it. Not Dick Grayson licks his lips, watching her enjoy her hard candy with keen interest. He’s way past his refractory period and sporting a happy erection again, but seems content to remain cuddled up to her on the bed for now. Vicki lets the mint melt in her mouth and reaches down to stroke him lightly, and his eyes fall shut and he purrs.

Batman watches them through the narrowed slits of his cowl. Something tells her that he hadn’t banked on the two of them getting along this well, and now it bothers him. It’s obvious he doesn’t like not being the center of attention. Hers. Or the boy’s, or both, who can tell with him.

“We’re out of time,” he snarls, sounding only the slightest bit possessive.

Robin shoots him a look from heavy-lidded eyes. He looks obscene, with his little domino mask on and nothing else and his cock rigid between his legs; obscene, and beautiful.

“Already,” he complains, tracing gentle circles around one of Vicki’s areolas. It’s not a direct refusal, he’s not quite there yet, but she can already tell that Batman will have a _hell_ of a time controlling his brat if he only grows a little older.

She judges from the small, fleeting frown on Batman’s face that he can tell, too.

“You’re forgetting something,” he warns his protégé, and the kid tenses up, still under the man’s spell. But when he looks in his direction, Batman merely grins.

“It’s not your call, boyo,” he says gruffly. “And it’s not mine, either. It’s hers.” He nods at Vicki in an _almost_ polite fashion. “If you’ve pleased her sufficiently – with my help, obviously – she might ask for an encore.”

Realizing that he’s being left to run free for a couple more moments, Robin perks up. He wraps his arms around Vicki, beaming up at her with such hopeful eyes, as if he wants to be adopted. And then slept with. It’s all very fucked up.

“Really, Miss Vale?” He asks again, and it tugs at the nerve ends in her pussy a little. “Can we? Um, please?”

Vicki is silent for a moment, moved by the pure need in the boy’s request, and slightly stunned that Batman is willing to let her take the reins.

The cowled man stays seated on the edge of the bed, apparently content to assume his role as observer again. But his grin is teasing. “If she’s willing to assist you with that,” he says with a lazy, dismissive nod at Robin’s hard member, “I can wait … three more seconds.”

The boy grimaces at him, but it’s clearly a little more playful now. Vicki sighs at their combined strangeness and regrets that she’ll never be able to write the _fantastic_ profile on them that it deserves.

Oh, hell. Who knows when Robin’s gonna get a treat again, probably not soon. And she’s finished her candy, so she might just as well.

“You know,” she purrs, as she slides down between his legs under Batman’s watchful eyes, “There’s this _thing_ about fresh mints and fellatio. Pay attention, and learn.”


End file.
